《A Smidge of Magic》Chapter 25
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Vale and Ian moved out of the crowd, planning on following the minotaur. That became a moot plan when someone on the street shouted, “What in the Abyss is that!?”
The pair turned, along with the rest of the crowd, to stare at the side of the Five Crowns. A trio of flaming spiders was rapidly scaling the glass facade, leaving trails of molten glass in their wakes.
Ian gave Vale an expectant look, as though she would know the answer.
Vale, in turn, looked to Mal, who only licked her hand in response.
“No idea, but I can say that it is nothing natural,” Vale said as the trio of spiders punched through a window on the fourteenth floor. She tugged at his sleeve pulling him towards the edge of the crowd. Through her raised cloak hood she shouted into the closest shop for someone to call the Fire Mages. With that done she scratched along Mal’s ear intently while revising her plan.
“Let’s wait here. There’s no sense in running into a burning building,” She said.
They settled on joining the crowd of gawkers.
It wasn’t long before red and white-robed figures appeared on the sidewalk. And soon they were directing the crowd to move back, making room for those pouring out of the lobby. More fire mages arrived and ran into the building preparing spells and equipment to extinguish the fire. A line of Fire Mages formed and they bombarded the blaze with shards of frost, globes of water, and freezing winds. It would not take them long to douse the fire.
Ian spotted their target stumbling out from the front entrance. It was clear the minotaur, or mini-taur as Ian thought of him, was attempting to lose himself in the crowd. Ian and Vale split up. Vale moved through the tightly packed people, heading for her quarry. While Ian stalked around the outskirts, pacing the lawyour.
Mal was helping to forge a path for Vale through the masses. The ranger pushed her way straight on, using the path Mal created for her to keep up with their elusive target. One hand clasped around the handle of a blade as she weaved through the crowd.
Tracking someone the mini-taur’s size was no easy feat through a crowd. Still, Ian stayed on his trail, unwilling to lose the only lead that they had. He followed his hunch about the minotaur’s direction and managed to stop right where he would exit.
Vale timed the interception perfectly; Ban’Koliath never even saw it coming. She pressed her blade against the minotaur’s back, making certain to apply enough pressure to let him feel the blade through his leather armor.
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“Move slowly, away from the crowd. Do not draw attention to yourself,” Her voice was cool and very in control. She made it clear that this wasn’t some ill-plotted mugging. She gave Ban’Koliath a hard shove to steering him clear of the crowd and face to face with Ian.
Ban’Koliath let out a snort of annoyance, knowing he should’ve been more vigilant. He cast a quick glance behind and spotted the female elf that he’d been searching for. He tensed when she prodded him again and began moving as directed. He knew nothing of his captors but wasn’t concerned by his current predicament. After all, he was a Custodian of Peace and a very good one at that. And he expected that they, like everyone else, would underestimate him because of his height.
Ian stayed on their suspect’s right trying to act casual. The minotaur began to drift towards him, but a soft warning growl from Mal persuaded him to correct his course. Ian had a growing suspicion that his presence was not entirely required here. Regardless, they were soon all standing across the street from the smoking hotel in front of a crowded cafe.
Vale moved to stand beside Ian. Mal sat on his haunches behind Ban’Koliath, blocking off any chance their prisoner had of escaping. No one was paying them any mind. The crowd was enthralled with watching the Fire Mages battle the inferno.
“Are there more of you assassin, or are you alone?” Ian asked while taking in the minotaur’s measure with a hard stare.
Ban’Koliath folded his arms over his broad chest and turned his focus to Ian, “Assassin? Ha! I came here to warn you, you’re in more danger than you could possibly realize.” Without uncrossing his arms, he moved swiftly to close the gap between himself and Ian. His sharp horns caused Ian to take a step back and Mal to growl out a firmer warning. Ban’Koliath gave a grin to Ian, “If I were here to kill you, you would already be dead.”
Ian smacked of the barrel of his gun against Ban’Koliath’s armored chest. When Ban’Koliath made no reaction to the gun Ian let out a laugh. He realized that he couldn’t threaten someone with his gun here, they would have no idea what it was. With his intimidation factor way down, he frowned in both frustration and anger.
“Trust me, I can handle myself,” Ian said, with deflated conviction.
Ban’Koliath glanced down at the strange object digging into his ribs. He understood that it was a weapon, it was clear in the way the human presented it. And something in the man’s eyes told Ban he didn’t want to find out how it worked. He decided to take the diplomatic approach rather than holding onto his wounded pride at being caught. He took a step backward, “We are starting off on the wrong horn.”
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Ian didn’t lower his gun.
“My name is Ban'Koliath. I am a lawyour from Justiciar Law-”
“We know. We saw you this morning,” Vale cut in. She still had her stiletto out and looked no less prone to using it.
“Well then, would you mind telling me why several very aggressive and on-fire spiders were sent after you this evening? Or perhaps why you met with one of the Partners instead of a regular member of staff like me?” Ban’Koliath questioned in a measured calm tone.
Vale silently expressed her question to Ian. ‘Do we trust him?’
Ian shrugged, his instincts told him they needed help and that this minotaur seemed genuine enough. He’d noticed the cuts and singed fur on Ban’Koliath’s arms. If he had been in on the attack, Ian doubted he’d have been caught up in the fire long enough to sustain those wounds. He holstered his gun and held out his hand.
“My name is Ian McClintoc. Nice to make your acquaintance Ban. I’m sure you understand our need to exercise caution, so I won’t apologize. If my friend decides you’re trustworthy then I’ll answer your questions. It… will take some time, though.”
Ban glanced at Ian’s offered hand and gripped Ian’s forearm in his traditional method of greeting.
When in Rome, do as the… hammer-wielding cow-men do, Ian thought.
After a brief shake Ban glanced at Vale. The Ranger still had her blade out and held low ready to strike. He knew that to gain her trust he would have to give her a good reason, fortunately, he had a very good one.
“I realize that trust takes time to build, but it is time I fear we don’t have. So allow me to trust you first. If the wrong ears hear these words I could quite easily be wiped from this world, but you should know. I am a member of the Order of Brass. Specifically a Custodian of Peace.” Seeing no recognition on Ian’s face, his eyes went to Vale, where he saw the reaction he anticipated, surprise.
“Prove it,” She said flatly, still keeping her stiletto ready.
Ban swept aside his cloak and held out his right arm. He muttered under his breath and a spot on his arm shimmered faintly. Through the thin fur a tri-pointed shield faded into existence, with the words: In darkness, We are the light. A rudimentary sun encompassed the entire shield.
Vale watched the whole process and then scrutinized the tattoo when it appeared. She, like most in a law enforcement position, was familiar with the Order of Brass and their true identification system. Brass badges such as those worn by the guards at the Transmission Spring were identification for the public. But when those in-the-know needed more stringent verification that they were dealing with a true Brassman, the arcane-shielded tattoos were used. It was something that could not be so easily counterfeited or stolen. And this minotaur was a Custodian, one of the highest ranks and most dangerous jobs within the Order.
Vale relaxed her posture and slipped her stiletto into the sheath behind her back. She made a small bow out of respect before introducing herself. “Valethalassa Therrae. Second Ranger of the Fallen Kings,” there was a quick bark, “I did not forget you amunte’rakka.” She walked over towards her lupine companion and scratched vigorously between his ears. “And this is Mal my shadow wolf companion.”
Ban muttered again and the shield faded away. He made a slight bow of his own. The Fallen King Rangers had somewhat of a mythical prestige among the other races. Feared as the most dangerous fighting force in the elven kingdom, and many others. He idly wondered if Ian had any idea what sort of company he was keeping. Ban looked him over again, seeing nothing too special about him. He was a bit tall for his race, reasonably fit and kept his head in a confrontation. He didn’t see what the Partner's’ interest in him could be.
Ian glanced around, watching the crowd then back to Ban. “Well if she’s satisfied that’s good enough for me. In answer to your question, I didn’t know we were going to meet with one of your Partners. We went in there to gather information and hopefully find something on the Harlequin Court-”
Ban held up his hands, his head snapped side to side as he scanned the crowd. “No… not here. You cannot bandy that name about.” He paused as if he expected some immediate retaliation to befall them for speaking the name aloud. When nothing happened, he insisted, “We need to get off the street. Now.”
“Fine, to our hotel room,” Vale offered.
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The World of Erd and Gods
Welcome to the world of Erd and Gods.The great divine empire has ruled for three thousand years upon the world. With an eternal lineage of heroes and the incarnation of gods, they maintain a glorious kingdom upon the earth. Now the kingdom has been pushed to the precipice, forced to contend with rebellious mortal kingdoms, the great realms of the monstrous Profane Quintet, and demons incarnate in their populace. Bloumen is born into this world, into a family of smugglers. She is marked by the sign of great demon, one of the greatest evils upon the face of the world. Now she must survive the hunt of great heroes, the demon seeking to use her as a vessel to bring calamity, and the distrust of those about her. A dark fantasy story around the reincarnation of a new demon who shall not be defeated! Some amount of progression elements and a rather complicated magical system. ---------- Weekly updates, every Sunday.
8 115A Mildly Odd Reality Breaker
Omar receives an unexpected visitor who comes baring a gift—a "registration ticket"—in the form of a small metal card. The ticket is itself an offer to participate in the game, "Reality Break." Accepting this offer means that Omar will be able to perceive the true nature of reality where there is not one, but two dimensions of time, and in this second dimension history changes (and somewhat "frequently"). Along with this, he will also gain access to the "chronopause"; another reality that is not so much parallel to our own as it is perpendicular, which acts as both a place and the natural boundary between non-sequential points on the timeline. Using the chronopause, Omar will become a chrononaut with the ability to travel through time, and as a player, he will be given a cybernetic interface and his own portable extradimensional storage space. It's a strange conversation, but due to Omar's dismally short attention span, he only consciously hears that last bit about the portable pocket space, and that's only after the physics-defying void is opened in his living room and literally waved in front of his face. Reality is certainly stranger than most people realize, but then again, so is Omar. Thankfully, he responds well to shiny things, and for better or for worse, his chronic inattentiveness is the least of his psychological issues. Omar also has a mild form of "Oppositional Defiant Disorder" which presents itself as an occasional, arbitrary need to disobey others (especially authority figures). However, his oddest psychological issue by far is his "abnormally hyperactive" subconscious mind. Outwardly and consciously, Omar is a lazy, apathetic man-child prone to mildly asinine behavior. Subconsciously, he's some sort of genius capable of extraordinary feats of cognition. Most of the time, Omar is a (technically) functioning adult, but in order to live as such, he must rely entirely upon unusual abilities he's completely unaware of, despite the fact that he uses them regularly. Up until now, his life had merely been ridiculous, but now it was also a game. Note: The narrative style is that of a reliable narrator with a "3rd-person sarcastic" POV. This story takes place in the Reality Breakers/Chronopause universe.
8 142MIND OF A MENACE
"Lemme find out, imma kill you" "ImMa KiLL yOu"
8 51Why did you do it? An Ash Betrayal
This is an Ash Betrayal I DO NOT KNOW POKEMON
8 72Ask Soviet
Soviet: Ask me anything I guess.. Admin: If you don't ask him, I will!*NOT MY ART UNLESS I SAY SO*
8 113sincerely yours, | heejake
"Promises are meant to be broken, right?"- completed
8 163